Normal
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: What constitutes "normal" is the conditions that are present over a particular period of time in particular circumstances. And even when time and space converge, the definition of "normal" can still be a bit hazy. At least for Rose that was...


**Normal**

Some of it's there. Some of it's apparent. Some things, even if one can't touch, smell or use any of the other three senses (or two if you were born to an unlucky alien species), you know are there. Oxygen, nitrogen, water vapor…these gasses make up the air around you, even if you can't see them. And while you can't see the time vortex that the Doctor's TARDIS travels through, you still know it's there. But unlike the gallifreyan, unlike the last Time Lord, you still can't see it. All you can do is take his word for it that it's out there, forever cut off from your touch because you weren't born on a world that's now been destroyed.

It's frustrating at times for her, standing alone in the control room, listening to the hum of an alien ship that's beyond her comprehension, luckily on the level that has spared her the embarrassment her boyfriend got back in London. It's even more frustrating when the Doctor gets into one of his moods, either bragging on about how "hairless apes" can't understand the complexities of time and space like he does or goes into emotional withdrawal, speaking of what used to be in regards to these aspects of physics. It's the latter she's used to-insults she can take easily, given that she's spent a good portion of her life learning them from her mother and applying them. But when the time traveler gets into one of his moods, there's nothing she can do to make it better.

As wonderful as seeing everything the universe has to offer is, Rose Tyler has realized that elements of her old life still remain true. And that's both relieving and frustrating at the same time.

She doesn't know how long she's been here, standing around doing nothing while the Doctor laughs at the clothes he used to wear (something about being different men…whatever that means). Time in all its wibbly-wobbly timey-whimyness apparently doesn't always travel at the same rate, so while her watch indicates she's been here two hours, six minutes and…something seconds (that's analogue for you), she's reluctant to take it at face value nor answer baldy's question when he asks her. Still, that doesn't matter too much. He's too busy inspecting a white shirt he's brought in, standing in stark contrast to his black jacket. A shirt that has-…

"Celery!" the Time Lord exclaims, wobbling the vegetable at his companion as he does so. "Stars and galaxies, what was I thinking? Honestly, I used to have the longest scarf in history and I trade it in for this…green thing?"

It's a question, not a statement. Like time, there are some things you sense. And as Rose Tyler can tell, the Doctor has sensed that making fashion statements probably isn't the best use of his time.

"Rose…?" he asks hesitantly, laying the suit to one side and walking over to his companion, currently staring at the TARDIS's…whooshy thing at its center. "You alright?"

She nods. "Yeah…fine. It's just…just…"

"Not normal?"

She nods. He's taken the words right out of her mouth. Still, much to her relief, he puts words back in them.

"Rose, I understand that a lack of normal can be hard to get used to. But if it's any consolation, sometimes I feel the same way."

The human blinks, turning to face her…associate/friend with genuine curiosity, the type she displayed when she first encountered the man, albeit without any of the fear that came from watching animated plastic in action. "You do?"

He nods. "Sure. But unlike you, I can't lead that life. This ship, strange as it is, is the only home I've got left. But I _like _the strangeness and mystery. It reminds me of what's out there, what I've yet to discover. If I lose that sense of wonder, I may as well not travel at all."

Once again, Rose Tyler senses something. She senses that while the Doctor is describing himself, he's also presenting her with a choice. Because as lonely as the man is, as brilliant and, she has to admit, arrogant, he's willing to let go of something that makes this life more bearable. And with that knowledge and murmuring something impartial as a result, both of them know she's made her choice.

Of course, if she knew that would involve a lecture on vegetables, even she might have had second thoughts.


End file.
